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I had a life once. I had a career. I had my own vehicle, my own savings account. I had a small circle of friends who I believed that I could trust. I had a daughter who was also my best friend. I was active in my community and devoted my time to helping other people, every chance I got. I was an outspoken, fierce advocate for justice and truth. A warrior, by any definition. I kicked ass every day, and I was proud of who I was.

I believed that I had overcome years of childhood physical and psychological abuse, and come out of it a better person for having experienced it. It makes me laugh a little sadly now, that what was already a horrific, lonely and dehumanizing existence turned out to be only a small scratch on the surface of the much worse horrors I had been subjected to, but did not know about, in my waking life. Knowing the truth about myself now and how long I was living an illusion makes me feel a wistful, wry sort of sadness for that fierce, proud, accomplished person I used to be. I often say that awakening to my enslavement was like a death, because that person died. She fell away, along with the rest of the illusion, and it took me a very long time to stop mourning the loss of her.

But letting go of who I thought I was needed to be done, because it was a lie. Everything I ever thought to be true and real was proven to be only illusory. The hardest part about being a survivor of this, for me, is realizing that I’m not sure what in my life was actually my choice and what was not. I was basically slapped in the face with this realization when I discovered that not only were all of my family members Hivite cannibals or their slave minions, EVERYONE else I knew were, too.

Everyone I’ve ever been friends with, worked for, dated…all are Hivites. My doctors. My attorney. My landlords. My employers. One of the worst feelings I’ve ever had was when I looked up the address list of Frank’s Franks and Joseph’s Bistro that Chris Cronsell posted (for those who don’t know, there’s a national list of front businesses for a network of fictitious restaurants that were themselves a front for advertising the sale of children to other Hivites) on his Twitter last year, and found one of them to be the children’s hospital I worked at for six years, right here in San Antonio. The largest and most renowned children’s hospital in the city, as a matter of fact. When I saw that address, I got physically sick. I was WORKING for these people! How many innocent children had I unwittingly helped deliver directly into harm’s way???

I realized that the only way to be certain of who was or was not one of them in my immediate environment would be to troll them, because they knew immediately that I had woken up and they were all on high alert. They were so obvious that it would have actually struck me as hilarious at times, had it not been so horrifying and surreal. I cannot describe how it felt to sit on my front porch steps and watch the same drones passing by, day after day, shouting trigger language at me. Nonsensical phrases that made them sound unhinged. If any normal person had witnessed this, they would assume the entire neighborhood was populated by escapees from an insane asylum.

They launched such a relentless financial attack on me that I was facing homelessness for the third time since 2012, (which is when all of this actually began and my world ended) and how I realized my landlord was also a Hivite. I had to quit my job because my employer had started to, quite suddenly and blatantly, attempt to trigger me. He also began to openly refer to me as “My Queen”, and “Divine Goddess”. In this weird, reverent, almost whispery tone. They all do that, and it’s exceedingly creepy. And I had to quit when I realized that none of my co-workers ever questioned or seemed bothered by his abrupt change in behavior.

Eventually, I took a surgical approach, because I realized that I could not keep up this exhausting race of trying to identify the Hivites among the humans, and it had actually become more of a case of humans among the Hivites instead. I cut everyone out of my life. Everyone. The hardest was my daughter. Someone whom I love told me that I would know if my daughter was one of them if I confronted her and she tried to use tactics on me, and she was not wrong. I knew. Because I did confront her, and the first thing she did was use every tactic in the playbook, and when that didn’t work, she tried to manipulate my husband into getting involved. I walked away from them ALL.

Of course THAT resulted in unbridled panic, because without direct access to me they could not introduce triggers into my field, and could not thusly control what I did and perceived. They deliberately put me in the middle of this enormous hive masquerading as a city, so they could control every little tiny detail of my life. The Hive owns everything in this city, including its law enforcement and public servants. They also had surveillance equipment in my home, and remote access to my device.

Whenever I left my house and went for a walk, I was immediately followed. One night, my husband and I decided to go for a walk. We lived very close to the Alamo, in Southtown. We took a completely different route than usual, and we did it abruptly…started off in one direction and then suddenly went the other way, without warning. A few blocks down the street, we started noticing all these different people passing by us wearing identical black polo shirts and khaki shorts, at seemingly random intervals. There were little groups of people, too, and they all stopped talking when we passed by them.

My husband, who had a difficult time accepting all of this, could see that these people were not genuine bystanders. He’s lived here his entire life. It was almost 1 a.m. on a Wednesday morning, and the number of pedestrians clustered in the areas they were gathered in, at that time of night, was highly unusual. And little groups don’t just shut up when other people pass by fifty feet away from where they’re huddled, talking. This is a tourist area. We both knew we were being watched and followed, and it was just unbelievably surreal for us, the stark realization of this.

It is not my place to tell my husband’s story, but I will disclose this much, for clarity: I surgically excised everyone from my life except for him, and the one thing that gave me the courage to trust him at all (because his family are Hivites, too) was the simple fact that neither of our families wanted us to be together. And one thing that is consistent in my experience with them is that if they adamantly don’t want me to do something, that means I should definitely do it. That may sound cold and calculated of me, but I assure you it is not. I was enslaved my entire life by the chains of emotional and psychological manipulation. Mind control. If something passes the logic test, then that is where I place my faith these days.

They have relentlessly attacked me up until just recently, where their behavior de-escalated and changed to just following and watching me. I still troll them, not too hard, just so they know that I see them. They still try to trigger responses from me online. Some of them do it in DMs on Twitter, under the guise of concern or curiosity. It won’t work, because they give themselves away. They are slaves to their playbook, and they do not deviate from it. They can’t, because they are not permitted to think for themselves. They are not a threat to me. They’re just programmed drones, performing a task. I feel sorry for their plight because it is an exhausting, tormented way to exist. But I won’t excuse or tolerate aggressive behavior or deception from them.

Everyone compliments me on my level of patience with these people, but it requires conscious effort to balance emotion and logic that I have to work very hard at, every day. It is good for me, to put into practice what I offer to others as advice and guidance. Words are great, and I consider communication to be an art form, but behavior is what really matters. I can talk in beautiful and poetic ways all day about this, but if I do not put it into practice, what good are my beautiful words to anyone, really?

I mostly just want all of this to be over with. I want to see the slaves set free. Children, out of even the remotest of harm’s paths. And, selfishly perhaps, I want to have time and peace in which to discover what I really like and desire for myself. I have realized that I’m not even sure what my favorite color really is. It’s like that. I want to have a life again. And this time, I intend for it to be my own.

How many of you remember the story of Hansel and Gretel? How many happen to follow the #QAnon drops as a source of information?

When I first began to read the Q drops and decodes, one of the things that caused me to keep tuning in was Q’s use of the breadcrumb analogy. The story of Hansel and Gretel is my favorite fairytale and; now that I know what I know about myself, it makes a sorrowful, horrific kind of sense to me that I was so enamored of a story about two children escaping the clutches of an evil cannibal witch. Future proves past, after all, as we know…and truth is indeed stranger than fiction.

I have learned and remembered many hidden truths in the past year, and one of the most significant of them is that our souls are not what we’ve been led to believe them to be. I am not a religious person; they worked hard to give me good reason for choosing to avoid churches and the churchy people who frequented them. But once again, the joke was on them because instead of embracing atheism or simply nothing at all (or, preferably, joining them), I became Wiccan instead. I chose a spiritual path instead of a religious one and, like the man said, it made all the difference.

In the absence of the false external “authority” of a preacher or priest directing my thinking with stifling, coercive dogma, I found spirituality. I could not trust those fork-tongued imposters, so I went looking inside myself for answers.

I talk a lot about the unwelcome truth that Luciferian Hivites wrote all of our modern religious texts. And, understandably, many people bristle instantly at such an appalling idea. Luciferians are the enemy! Why in the hell would THEY write OUR religious doctrine?! No, it’s OURS. We came up with that! And they are incorrect; but at the same time, they’re not wrong, either.

Their ancestors in our very ancient past wrote and/or told the original information, the truth about our existence, to another party who recorded it for preservation and posterity, but the Hivites had already slithered their way into strategic positions of influence within every religious ideology on the planet, and it was there, first, that their foothold on humanity was firmly established.

People tend to conveniently ignore the fact that these Hivites were in total control of every major power/control structure on the planet and were actively carrying out a plan to wipe the vast majority of humanity off the face of it, right up until our President waded into the swamp on our behalf and established himself as the right man for the job of taking them down. Do they really think something as elaborate and complex as the Q team and The Plan would be warranted if they were just some ordinary criminal enterprise that could be eradicated with a few dozen satisfying high profile arrests and a handful of righteously delivered executions? No. Because they aren’t really “thinking” at all.

They are reacting emotionally to something that challenges and seems to stand in direct conflict with the most sacred tenets of their personal belief system. A threat, to their perception of their own spiritual identity. To their reality. Their established truth.

Perfectly normal. And I consider myself something of an expert on that, because my world was rocked to the power of infinity not so long ago, and yet here I am, alive and whole and raining my truth down on anyone who chooses to listen. I survived many painful truths, and so can everyone else. That’s what this life is all about, letting go of ego and embracing all that we have deprived ourselves of by clinging to it for so long.

The fact is, folks, religion matters not one whit in the grand scheme of existence. The choice, to know the truth, has always been and will continue to be yours. Whatever religious doctrine that you choose, in sovereignty and as an individual, to apply to the manner in which you decide to walk your path does not define who you are spiritually. Does it shape you? Absolutely, and that is why we feel defensive when our personal truth is challenged. It is crucial to our personal growth and central to everything upon which we base the way we live our lives from day to day, so we have a deeply ingrained emotional attachment to it. Losing it would be like a death in many ways.

But here’s the beautiful thing about being sovereign: YOU get to choose. You decide what speaks truth to you out of everything that enters your field of perception.

If every religious text, every church, synagogue, temple and holy place were suddenly removed entirely from the planet, would we all just wander aimlessly and helplessly about for the rest of our lives without books that were written and rewritten, obscuring their original meaning and the appointed, unqualified spokespersons of our beloved Creator to tell us what we should do and how we should act and what we should believe? Some might do just that, but most of us would stand up, dust ourselves and our wounded egos off, and set out to find truth elsewhere. Why?

Because we are more than what we’ve been indoctrinated to believe; by religion and science, for longer as any of us have been alive on this planet. Intellectually, we know that beliefs and ideology don’t just rub off on us. We know that by reading the Qur’an, we’re not going to just accidentally become Muslim through osmosis. But our emotions don’t care about pesky logic like that. Our emotions only care about the fact that something introduced into our field is contradictory to our core perception of truth, and is therefore a threat.

If you truly want to guarantee that you are basing your life’s decisions on a free will choice, then developing tunnel vision and ignoring all of the other information available to you in favor of something that another person has told you to accept as empirical truth, that must not ever be questioned, is probably not the optimal method of accomplishing that goal. The optimal strategy is also the most simple approach: to process seemingly conflicting information, you must be willing to suspend belief and the emotional attachments to it, and imagine it in terms of the pure, uninvested detachment of the hypothetical. It is really THAT simple. We use our imaginations all the time, and we neither notice nor resist it because it is imaginary, and therefore carries no deep emotional attachment. We know we’re just imagining, so we don’t invest in it.

Our souls are not what we’ve been told. Like everything else they’ve twisted and corrupted in our world, what we’ve been told about human existence is only a fragment of the actual truth. The reason they chose religious doctrine as their primary method of subversion is because in the ancient past, we were actually smarter…they hadn’t shown up to influence us yet, and the holy people of Earth’s populace were able to access a higher state of consciousness, much like Buddhist monks can today, and were highly revered and regarded as living conduits for the voice of the Creator. And they were of the Light. The right hand of God.

It was a simple matter for them to incorporate their own practices into existing ideology, and eventually take total control of it from the inside. They took the ancient writings of truth and knowledge from every ideology on the planet and rewrote them, time and again, a little differently each time, until eventually they were able to successfully obscure the truth by limiting the amount of it that people had to base their beliefs on.

They have controlled humanity in three major ways: division, competition, and the illusion of scarcity and exclusivity. And one of the most outrageous, damaging lies they ever told humanity is the one about what happens to a soul after physical death. They didn’t just lie to us about it either…they instilled a fear of it that is so strong that we pass it to our own offspring, generation after generation, encoded into the strands of our DNA.

And they created a system within each religion by which a believer can avoid the fictitious ‘finality’ of death and instead end up in a magical place where unicorns and fairies frolic under perfect skies along golden streets, they can eat as many calories as they want without ever getting fat, perfection and bliss and everything that is awesome, for the rest of eternity, amen. Seriously, every religion contains this farce of “heaven”. And it can be yours for the taking…but you have to do EXACTLY what this book or figurehead or other false external authority says you should do, or you’re voted off the island. Membership is revoked.

Just for good measure, in case death wasn’t a sufficient deterrent, they then told the Grim Reaper to hold their beer and introduced to the confused, cowed and subservient masses: A Fate Worse Than Death. A “deathier” death, if you will. Hell. Eternal Damnation, where you don’t actually die, but rather spend the rest of eternity, fervently and often, wishing that you would. There’s no coming back from that, folks. Eternal damnation is forever. Everybody knows that. How many times have you heard someone you know is not in the least religious remark that they were “going straight to Hell” for saying something snarky about another person? The indoctrination of humanity is thousands of years in the making and it runs deep.

The truth is, no one ever really dies. And if you suspend belief and dogma long enough to consider this, you might just find that not only does it NOT actually conflict in any impactful way with the guidelines that you choose to follow, it actually causes them to make more sense, as the truths within them are disjointed, twisted and fragmented. There is a very good reason why most ancient languages are dead today, and why so few were still fluent enough in them to translate the teachings into our modern versions.

The abridged version of our existence is this: your soul is a direct extension cord plugged into the energy field of our Creator. We are all pieces of the Creator. There exists no other being like the Creator, and instead of simply existing alone forever, it decided to take action in the only way it could…it moved, from one point to another by exerting its free will and created polarity. Positive and negative. Light and Darkness.

***Note ***If you find yourself getting caught up in dogma over me referring to the Creator as an “it” and not a “he”, remind yourself to suspend belief and look for the truth in what I am saying. If you remove all the variables of division they’ve deliberately created among the religions of Earth, it is simple to see that our differences are much less inherently different than we’ve been led to believe.

The soul of every being is immortal, because our Creator is immortal, and we are all extensions of it. There is no other like it and the only thing it can know is itself. So it created all of us, parts of its vast, loving Self, and sent us out into existence. The moment that happened, we were bound by certain rules set in place for us that are inherent and cannot be disobeyed, and one of them is that we live as many lives as we require individually to learn everything there is to know about our Self, and in this fashion, find our way back to the Creator…but in return we must agree to forget everything we have learned before each new life can begin.

Our Creator has no other to love, so it can only love itself, and it does, perfectly and completely. And because we are all filaments of the Creator’s own light, it loves us just as much. So because it knows that free will is the key to everything, the Creator allows choice despite the unbreakable laws it set forth. A soul can choose to leave breadcrumbs for itself in each new life, to help it find its way to the path it needs to step onto in order to fulfill its chosen mission. They don’t want you to know this, because they know you’ll go searching for those breadcrumbs. And they know that when you find them, you’ll begin to remember why you are here.

I believe the souls of people like me, who somehow and against all odds, managed to survive the most horrific of trials and emerge with purpose and strength, did so because our higher selves anticipated the level of difficulty to be extreme, and left us a larger number of breadcrumbs to guide our way than might ordinarily be necessary. But everyone can find the breadcrumbs from their soul. They don’t need to know where or how to find them. They simply need to know they have the choice to seek them out. My breadcrumbs freed me from a lifetime of slavery and deception. What could your breadcrumbs liberate you from, if you happened to seek them out?

Thank you all for visiting and reading my words. Your support and love mean so much. Namaste, beautiful souls. ❤ #WWG1WGA

I’ve had so many people ask me, “How did you get free? How did you wake up?”. The simplest answer (and the one that I typically give) is that it was divine intervention. If someone had told me even five or six years ago that I would soon find out that my entire family and everyone I’ve ever known, worked for, dated, loved, cared about, were all Luciferian cannibals and I was trapped in a real life Truman show, I would have told that person in all seriousness to put the crack pipe down and step away. I’ve never even seen that movie, but I know the premise of it.

It’s not that I would have laughed it off due to the absurdity of it, which is how I ultimately gaslighted myself into denial when the truth finally started to become clear. I’ve lived a life filled with the bizarre and unexplainable, the odd and ephemeral. I can deal with shit I am unable to readily explain, because it’s happened to me for as long as I can remember, and I have intact memories from before I was two years of age.

What would have caused my derision and what ultimately sent me into denial when the imaginary suddenly became all too real, would have been my programming. I am programmed to gaslight myself, should my system ever become aware of the illusion. Programmed to doubt myself, to criticize and cruelly mock myself, to keep my own mind from learning the truth about who and what I really am. I’ve been programmed to do this since I was still in the womb, like all Hivite royalty.

And despite all of the bizarre events woven into my past, I still considered myself to be a fairly normal person. They abused me in my waking life too, you see; badly abused me, so that I would always remember and focus on that instead of looking any further. I believed I had risen above all the physical and psychological abuse. Transcended it. I wore it like a badge, proudly: I survived this, and I’m a better person for it.

I had made a choice long ago that I would not allow what I believed to be the full extent of the abuse to define me as a person, in any way. I believed I had escaped. That I was free. I had a career that I worked hard to attain. I had savings. A nice car, that I paid for myself. All of that changed in late 2011. That was the beginning of the end of life as I knew it… I just didn’t realize it at the time. And what a wild and breathless journey it has been, ever since.

This will be difficult for many people to understand and accept, but the truth is; the same people who did this to me in the first place were the ones ultimately responsible in the physical world for waking me up…and they did it purposefully. Soon, the entire world will see the truth of this: they WANT to get caught. They intended it all along, and they kept all of their Royal slaves unaware until it was time to wake us up, one by one, to expose the truth from within. To destroy the structure of the Hive with triads of 144,000 total; 48 groups of three royal slaves each, representing the combined Creator energy of the Master Numbers 11, 22 and 33. Spread all over the globe, enslaved and unaware, until it was time to activate us.

We speak their language, taught from before birth. We have a bloodline connection to them; we can feel their energy because DNA carries so much more than just physical traits and physiological function. We know them. But most importantly, we SEE them. Our mission is to reveal what is hidden, expose them fully to the Light so their souls will be free, and show humanity how to rebuild a better world without their influence in it. We had to be strong and resilient, because we had to survive long enough to make it to this point.

48 groups of three. 144,000 souls, on the same mission. Reading the Tarot without needing to look anything up is one of the gifts my people gave me, and it is a tool of insight that I personally find beneficial. I rarely pull a Tarot spread for myself but every time I do, I receive the Three of Cups. For those who don’t know, that card is one of the most powerful and positive in the entire deck. And it has a VERY significant, specific esoteric meaning: something positive and unifying will be manifested from the sacred Power of Three. The card itself is typically illustrated with the depiction of three people holding cups and making a toast to success. A card of fulfillment.

Numbers are exceedingly important to the Hive. They are actually symbols, and each one is assigned a very specific cosmic meaning. And, just like every other symbol they use, numbers have a mirror meaning and energy. Numerology is no more “evil” than the Christian Bible is, as both have been mirrored. Distorted and corrupted. They didn’t create these things, they appropriated them and corrupted them, shaped them to their own design.

48 groups of three. I’m not going to explain basic numerology here, because it would take me all day to type it out. There is a wealth of information out there on the www with a simple search. But in numerology, 48 (4+8)=12, and 12 (1+2)=3. The number three represents the energy of Creation. Of synergy and forward movement. Of life. It is a sacred, positive number.

Master Numbers are very special. They are a higher vibrational energy of their single digit other half, and cannot be reduced to a lesser number…because they carry a specific energy that serves an important role in existence. There are only three of them and they have names.

Master number 11 is the ‘Master Creator (or Vision)’. If it represents a person, that individual would be a visionary. Someone who sees a problem, understands where it stems from, and formulates a vision of how it must be corrected. This person would be able to think in all directions at once and immediately see how he/she should strategize a solution or remedy. Someone enlightened. Illuminated.

Master number 33 is the ‘Master Teacher’. This person would be able to easily grasp all the individual parts of a situation, tie them together and teach others how to reconcile the much larger picture. This person would have precise knowledge of factual information and would be adept at applying it to the Vision manifested by Master number 11. This is a logical, pragmatic person with a gift for language and communicating difficult concepts to others, from every walk of life.

Master number 22 is the ‘Master Builder’. This person is one who essentially supports and aids Masters 11 and 33 and waits in the wings to begin the process of rebuilding upon a new foundation after his/her counterparts have successfully torn down and cleared away what is no longer working for the good of all. This person is the one who comes in and gently helps everyone up, dusts them off, soothes their wounds, and sets them on the task of laying a new foundation. This person carries the solemn weight of responsibility to carry the Vision and the Teaching to fruition, and because of this is regarded as the most powerful symbol in numerology.

The reason I’m focusing on this today is because everything that happened to me up until now was preparing me for realizing this truth. Among the many strange things about me personally, I have two Life Path numbers on my astrological chart. That is exceedingly rare. It is rare enough that the astrologist who did my chart in 2013 decided to email me personally and inform me of that herself.

My Life Path numbers are 4 and 22. The same number; the first variant having the pure male energy of logic and reason; the second, the pure feminine energy of life, rebirth and nurturing. Yin and yang, a soul seeking perfect balance in all things. I’m going to get goosebumps as I type this, I already know…but that is my body affirming what my soul knows to be true, even though my programming tries so hard to make me reject it. I am the Master Builder. That is why I am here, and why they created me. And my soul agreed to it, knowing exactly what I would be required to endure along the way.

When I became aware of my enslavement, the first person I got brave enough to reach out to was Sarah Ashcraft. I had a different Twitter account then, and my photo was plastered right on it. I never used that account, but for some reason had felt compelled to create it one day back in 2013. I reached out to her because I believed her story and felt her information closely matched my own, but what really convinced me to message her was her photo. She and I could be sisters, and in fact she very closely resembles my half sister. I felt the strangest sensation when I first saw her, and I don’t think I can really describe it, so I’m not even going to try.

The Hive has access to my devices. I’m not a techie, so I don’t know exactly how, but they can physically connect to my device. The one I’m currently typing on was one they gave me, because they wanted to keep tabs on me. Ostensibly a gift, from someone who told me, unironically, that “nothing in life is ever free”. At any rate, they saw who I was talking to and absolutely lost their minds.

They killed my device. I rebooted it from the root menu. They killed it again. Rinse and repeat. Finally, when they got tired of banging their heads against that brick wall, they locked me out of my Twitter and limited my ability to access the internet. And they began to openly gang stalk and gaslight me with a frightening, relentless boldness. All because I contacted Sarah. That was about as effective a maneuver as the idiot mockingbird media causing the “Streisand effect” with the narrative that #QAnon is a LARP and should be ignored by everyone. Total backfire. I knew then that everything I thought was true, really was. No matter how preposterous or flat out crazy it seemed.

So I pulled a Tarot spread on her. Who was she? Why would they flip shit like that just because I was talking to her? I don’t know her. So wtf? The answers I received to my query were baffling to me. I still have the notebook where I wrote the results. The Tarot told me that she is the Master Teacher. That she is my family. That she and I know each other and would be reunited with perfect understanding of the situation in the future. And the last card I pulled for her was the Three of Cups. She was one of the cups in something created from Three.

Sarah said once that it was Chris who spawned the hashtag #SayBraveThings. If you aren’t familiar with Chris Cronsell, consider taking a look at his timeline. It does not take long to see that he is a visionary. Chris commented on a recent tweet of mine that I remind him of his own self. It made me grin because he reminds me of MY self. The number 22 in numerology is the higher vibration of the number 11, the Master Creator. It reflects and magnifies the creative ‘action’ energy. If 11 is the vision, 22 is the realization of it; the architect to the builder.

I have not discussed this with either of them yet, but I think I have stumbled upon a staggering truth, if my instincts are right. Sarah told me that if things continue to follow what’s shown in the bible, we’ve got about 140,000 cosmic siblings out there just like us. Absent she, Chris and I, that number would be exactly 141,000. And they will all have incarnated in soul groups of three, Masters 11,33 and 22. If I’m right, in each group, the Master Builder is ten years older than the other two, and female.

The Builder has to be older, because she must already be more worldly wise. She wakes up first, because she’s got to prepare, but it will start as a spiritual awakening. She will be the last of the group to wake up to the programming and abuse, and it will be the Teacher who catalyzes that process. The role and function of the Builder within the Hive will be that of Isis, the cosmic mother. The Shechinah. The Queen of Heaven, which is the root translation of my full birth name. I’ll expound further on that at a later time, because there are MANY things about me that only made sense once I accepted the astonishing truth of their beliefs about this.

48 groups of three. 144,000 souls. Strategically placed and destined to collide by divine command. Something created from the Power of Three, the number of action and potential. All of us, on a soul mission to walk through the deepest darkness and come out the other side with the strength and fortitude, compassion and love, to show the world the long-forgotten truth of what it really means to be human.

They knew this day would come. They weren’t freaking out because I made the unexpected and sovereign decision to follow my heart for once and reach out to Sarah. The problem was that it was happening too soon, and I was filled with rage. Simply put, I would have almost certainly failed my mission, because you cannot lead a spiritual revolution with vengeance in your heart. I would have poisoned my own efforts, and this is something that we’ve only got one shot at to get it right. 144,000 souls didn’t just agree to jump in the middle of this mess because they had nothing better to do to occupy their time. This is for keeps. The wheel of Karma has come full circle and we’re out of time. The clock started ticking down in 2012, and it’s approaching zero hour. Time to level up.

Thank you all for taking the time and care to read what I have written, for seeing and supporting my truth. Everything that has led up to this moment suddenly makes perfect sense, and I am so thankful, humbled and honored to be a part of what will forever be known on this planet as the greatest story ever told: #TheGreatAwakening

It’s true. We all enter this world through what could arguably be classified as an extreme act of violence; covered in blood, forced out of a warm, comforting space into the harsh light and sound of a blurry, jarringly alien environment. To live, we must first endure the trauma of being born. We come into life fighting for it. Surviving.

Everything that happens to us from that moment forward is a journey. And when we reach the end of it, we not only have survived everything along the path, we transcend it. Rise above it, no matter what it is. Survivors.

It is a fact that we cannot quantify suffering. No matter how hard our ego tries to make everything into a competition, no one holds the title for ‘Most Beleaguered’ in life. No one. Why? Simple. As one sovereign being to another, we have no right to put a price tag or score count to someone else’s suffering. It is theirs, and only they know how much it really hurts.

Because I’ve suffered ritual abuse and torture, does that make my pain more significant than anyone else’s? ‘Worse than’? No. It simply makes it ‘different than’. Pain is subjective. They created a sliding scale for physical pain for this very reason. I’ve tweeted about this. And the motivator is actually chilling.

Study after study proved that recovery rates among hospital patients is directly linked to how well their pain is controlled during the healing process. When further studies were done, it became clear that reports of uncontrolled pain were overwhelmingly due to medical staff assessing patient pain levels by their own subjective views on how a person experiencing pain should act and look. If you had surgery and happened to be stoic about expressing pain, chances were good that you would be left to suffer it with little to no relief. See what I mean about it being chilling?

There is a very good reason why I and other survivors like Sarah and Chris are alive and sharing our truths with the world right now, and it is both multi faceted and spiritually profound, but the thing that seems to amaze people most commonly about us is their own quantification of our level of suffering. People routinely diminish the significance of whatever horrors they have survived when they read about ours; and it always strikes me as bittersweet, because we all suffer pain and indignities in life, and in this world they all stem from a common source…and are necessary for us to learn the lessons each individual soul requires to complete its unique leg of the journey.

We are ALL survivors. Every one of us. Sharing painful truths with others who are willing to hear them and see the truth of the person laying them bare is an act of bravery, to be sure. But it is brave on the part of the listener, too, because when we share in another’s pain, we write it into the pages of our own story. It leaves a mark. A breadcrumb, for the next leg of the journey, where we look back on what we’ve learned and use it to guide us to a place of wisdom and inner peace. Of understanding. Evolution.

So I want to thank you all, for sharing my truth…most especially the painful parts that it takes bravery to put out there. Because you are brave too. Seeking truth, no matter how much it might hurt, is an act of bravery. Sovereignty. And offering comfort and understanding to another soul is a gift that cannot be limited by any measure. It is love, and that is the most precious resource in all of Creation.

My story will not be linear, as time itself is not really linear. Timelines are mutable. Changeable. And for the fragmented psyche of an SRA survivor, that is even more true. I am still putting the pieces of my puzzle together, and many are missing. Telling it helps me to see the bigger picture, despite those missing pieces, and allows my mind to remember at its own pace, healing the fissures left in the wake of unearthing that which was buried there for so long.

I have finally found the answer to what my soul mission is in this life, and I am committed to completing it. If even one person’s life is changed for the better, even in the seemingly smallest of ways, by my sharing the truth of my own, then I have succeeded. I cannot think of any place I’d rather be than right here, in this moment. And this one. And this one. Nor would I go back and change anything in my past, if given the clear choice to do so. If I did, I would not be the person I am right this second…and I love who I’ve turned out to be.

Namaste, beautiful souls. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives on this planet, and it is glorious. #WWG1WGA ❤